


Drunk Anarchy

by Tipper



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipper/pseuds/Tipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy Rufus tells the story of when seven men helped battle off some serious bad guys in his small mountain town, all to help out a woman and her son.  And he tells the story <i>completely drunk.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Chapter 1: Billy Rufus Tells A Story

**Author's Note:**

> In the fashion of "Drunk History" on Comedy Central, the whole story is told by someone who is completely and utterly drunk (Billy Rufus, the saloon owner) to his brother (Henry Beau), a couple of days after the whole story plays out. There's a lot of slurred speech, misspoken words, and bad behavior. 
> 
> This is based on a prompt from my friend J Brooks, who challenged me to base this story on an incident in royal history. I chose a couple from the Anarchy in England. I also happened to watch Drunk History for the first time while I was coming up with this, and…well, this is what happened.

**PROLOGUE**

Hank LeClerc snapped the reins, feeling the tug as the horses picked up speed, the wagon creaking in response. Cold air blew brusquely down the mountain pass, carrying the smell of pine and juniper—a welcome scent. With a huff, Hank shook snowflakes off his thick blonde beard and smiled tightly through chapped lips. He'd been smelling the spring coming in the air for a week, but it wasn't here yet—winter wasn't giving up its hold on the mountains quite yet. 

He looked up as he came over the crest, expecting to see what he always did on his weekly visits into Oxford on market day—a bustling little town, filled with ranchers, farmers and townsfolk bargaining for wares and provisions, people in good spirits on the verge of laughter, color and the smells of cooking food filling the air. There was always a sense of merriment and he looked forward to it every other week that he came in for supplies. 

What he saw caused him to grind the wagon to a halt. 

The town looked dead.

Feeling the inside of his mouth getting cold, he closed it with a snap and urged the stalled horses forward. He swore at the unsteady dip and sway of the cart as he tried to miss the largest holes in the mud-churned ground. The black dirt had mixed with the yellowed snow to create mounds of black ice, the horses' hooves skidding on the slick surface. Normally, the road down was rutted but dry and straight, and, at this time of year, framed by pristine drifts of pure white snow on either side. Now it looked like the whole hill had been stripped and scarred with filth—a lot of men had to have been camped up here. 

He spat as he turned the horses to miss the largest piles of waste and crap, grimacing at the horrific smell that the melting snow hadn't managed to wash away yet. He pulled his bandana out of his pocket, pressing it to his face, trying not to breathe too deeply. 

When his small cart finally reached the little bridge across the stream, he sighed to see that it had been destroyed. Grumbling, he climbed down and, holding the reins tightly, shivered as he stepped into the stream, the freezing cold water whipping around his heavily booted feet. The horses didn't like it either, pulling against his direction as he encouraged them to follow. Stepping as carefully as he could—at least the water was clear and shallow—he prayed he wouldn't break a wheel as the cart jostled and tilted over the large rocks cluttering the streambed. 

On the far side, he breathed a little easier—partly because he was away from the worst of the filth and smell, but also because the wheels seemed solid still. He considered how he'd have to go round the long way to get home this afternoon, using the bridge down by Geoffrey Martel's farm.

Climbing back onto the cart, he spurred the horses forward, uncertain that he really wanted to see what had become of the town itself. But beggars couldn't be choosers—he needed supplies. Plus, he'd come _this_ far….

As he reached the first set of clapboard buildings, rising tall over the dirt, the sound of hammering became obvious, echoing through the streets. He soon saw why as he turned around the boarding house and onto the main street: a majority of townsfolk were on ladders or perched on busted overhangs and balconies, attaching new wood or reinforcing broken braces and beams. Others were stuffing straw and mud into cracks and holes in the sides of building, while even more were painting over what looked like burn marks. Bits of splintered wood and shell casings were mashed into the snow and dirt, churned up like his wife's cake recipe, and children were scattered about, quietly and gingerly picking up debris to toss into wagons. Everyone was working this morning, but not to set up the market. This was a town rebuilding itself. 

He smiled slightly. Down, but definitely not dead, and not for long. 

He pulled to a stop by the massive sycamore that marked the center of the town, looking up at the leafless branches. It was a beautiful tree, the pride of the town, easily sixty feet tall, but there were branches on the ground, like someone had shot at it directly and deliberately. Who would shoot at such a beautiful tree? 

A child looked up at him from the road next to the tree—Martel's youngest son, looked like—and despite all the devastation, the boy tugged down the scarf he wore and grinned. Hank smiled back, and the boy picked up a piece of the broken sycamore.

"Gonna whittle it into a present for my mum," the boy said, showing the wood to Hank proudly. 

"Good for you," Hank said, giving him a nod. "I'm sure she'll love it."

The boy grinned again and, branch under his arm, took off down the side street next to the laundry. 

Clicking his tongue, Hank got the horses moving again, turning around the tree towards his destination.

He whistled softly when he saw Edith Godwin's feed store--the front of it looked like someone had exploded several bags of seed all over the snow piles in front. The large pane glass window on the front also sported a couple cracked bullet holes. She was on her porch with her husband Harry, the two of them somewhat ineffectually trying to shovel the loose seed, snow and grain into buckets. She looked up as he drove the cart towards her, pushing her hat back.

"Ho there, Godwins," he called as he pulled the horses to a stop. "Everyone alright?" He gestured a gloved hand to the town. "What happened?"

She just smiled tightly, while Harry huffed and walked into the warmth of the store, her husband's shoulders slumped.

"Some unpleasantness," she replied, shrugging. "Still trying to come to terms, but no one's hurt that you'd know." She leaned against her shovel, looking out over the rest of the town. "Not sure I feel up to telling the story just yet, and I know Harry don't. All that matters is that it's done now." She looked at his cart. "How much you need?"

"The usual. That okay?"

"Surely. Most our stock was in the back, so it's fine. But we're not quite ready for you yet. Tie up your wagon round back, then come back 'round noon. I reckon most everyone will be back to normal by then and we can get it loaded."

"Noon?" Hank frowned, and glanced over at the clock on the church. It read just before nine in the morning. 

"Yep." She started pushing the broom around again, then stopped, a small, dark smile on her face. "Tell you what. You go find that no good, rotten, big mouth brother of yours, Billy Rufus. If anyone should tell the story of what happened, it's him. Then come back and we'll do business when the steeple chimes twelve. Might even have a piece of pie for you when you come back, it's baking in the oven as we speak." 

Hank smiled at that, and tipped his hat to her before turning to look at the saloon his brother owned near the old sycamore. It was the only place in the town no one was working to fix up, though it looked as wrecked as everywhere else.

"What did'ya do now, Billy?" he muttered.   
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

**CHAPTER ONE: BILLY RUFUS TELLS A STORY**

It was dark inside the saloon, and unusually quiet. Even the bustle of the rebuilding going on outside seemed oddly muffled despite the broken windows and loose door. The room itself was in chaos, chairs and tables upended, some split in half, while a cold wind whistled through it all. Snow had blown in, a dusting beneath the windows and inside the threshold. The bar, though, was intact, and there was a single occupant manning it. 

“Billy,” Hank greeted, settling himself at the end of the bar where his brother was leaning into the wood as if it were the only thing holding him up. At least one dead soldier lay in front of the man on its side, label side up to show it was the usual rot-gut whiskey. Another bottle on its way to join the first was gripped in Billy’s hand. He looked like hell. Damn, it was too early for this. “You alright there, Billy Rufus?”

He was both pale and flushed, eyes redder than his cheeks, but Billy Rufus managed to raise his head to look up at his questioner. After a moment’s befuddlement, his blue eyes lit with recognition and Billy blessed him with a drool filled smile.

“Hank! My sweet baby bub…brud…brother! Whatchoo doing here?” 

Ooh, there was a powerful stench that accompanied that hello, and Hank slid over a little to be out of the line of fire coming from Billy’s mouth. 

“Usual. Supplies for the farm,” Henry replied. “At least, it was ‘til I saw the state of the town. Looks like half of it's been torn to shred by bullets, even the big sycamore in the center of town looks like it's had several branches taken off. I tried to ask Edith at the feed store, which looked a bit less destroyed, but she just wouldn’t talk about it. She sent me in here.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, sneering a little. “She would. Thinks 'is my fault. Like I could’a known.”

“Your fault?” Henry frowned slightly. “What’s your fault?”

“Oh, it was terrible, just terrible what happened. And I mean terrible. A crying shame. That poor woman, and that poor little boy, the terribleness of it. Just so…so….”

“Terrible?” Hank asked.

“Yeah.” Billy Rufus sniffled. “That.” He spun suddenly, grabbing onto Hank’s jacket like a lifeline. “But I swears to you, Henry, I swears, it wasn’t me that let on. I didn’t. Well, not the second time. First times, yes, but nots the second. I swears on our father’s sainted grave. You gotta believe me. You’re my kin. You believe me, right?”

Hank just lifted his eyebrows, and gently pulled Billy’s sweaty paw of his jacket and placed it on the sticky bar. 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But maybe you can fill me in on what happened, so I can answer.”

“What happened…” Billy repeated, pulling the whiskey bottle closer to him. “Sure. Sure…Sure.”

He paused then, took a swig, and glared blearily at the label. After a moment, he frowned and looked over at Hank.

“Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“What wazzah talking ‘bout?”

“Why the town looks like hell, and why it’s not your fault.”

“Oh.” Billy sighed, slumping a little further in his seat. “Right.” Then he grinned suddenly. "It actually started kinda fun. New peoples, you know? And neat lookin' ones at that. Not cowboys, not a one, I can tell you that."

Hank nodded, while Billy looked out the window.

“It started ‘bout a week ago,” he began, “late in the afternoon, when these four scary looking types came riding into town…well, no, scratch that. One was scary, one was scruffy, one looked like a jerk, and one looked like a cardsharp. All fancy bright red coat and pretty hair, like he washed it or some-ut..” He sniffed. “They was accump….accumpan…accumpanin this pretty lady, with long, dark brown hair and just the nicest smile…” Billy leaned against the bar, resting his chin on his hand and smiling dreamily up at the soot-blackened ceiling. “She sat straight up in the saddle, like a queen, you know? Like Queen Victoria herself, all regal and stuff. The kinda woman that just makes you wanta—“

“Billy.”

“Right, right,” he grinned wolfishly. “But she was damned pretty. Her name was Maddie. Shame she had a kid.”

“A kid?”

“Yeah. Named Henry, actually, just like you. Pest, he was. Whining all the time, like he thought he was sum-tin special. Annoying.” He sneered, then the sneer fell suddenly, his expression washing over with shame. “I shouldn’t’a said that. That poor kid. Can’t believe I said that. Oh, I’m gonna go ta hell, Hank, I jest know it. Whazz wrong with me?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Billy Rufus sighed again, leaning more heavily on his hand.

Hank nudged him. "Billy?"

“Story. Right. It goes down like this." He frowned. "They comes up here to the saloon, and scary guy, he starz givin’ orders, like he’s in charge. Tells ‘em stuff. ‘Cardsharp,’ he orders, ‘you get Matilda and Henry rooms for the night at the hotel. Scruffy,’ he says then, ‘you go scout ‘bout, look for the guys, make sure no one’s followin’. And jerkface…’” Billy screws up his face. “I think the jerk’s name was Beau or Butch or Brick, or some-ut stupid like that…. ‘Brick,’ he says to the jerk, ‘you scope the town fer badgers. I’s gonna go talk to the sheriff.’” And then they disperse. But, ‘course, we’re all watching, ‘cause we don’t get strangers that often, you know?”

Hank just nodded, but something didn’t quite sit right. “Did you say, ‘badgers’?”

“Whut?”

“Scary guy sent the jerk to find badgers, you said.”

“Did I? No, I didn't.” He giggled. “Badgers. Heh. Why would anyone go looking for badgers? You needs listen…to listen better, little bro.”

Hank smiled wanly, and Billy waved it off.

"Anyhoo, a whiles later, Scary, Cardsharp and Brick are all here in the saloon, talkin' in a corner. They's arguin'. Now, you know me, I don't eavesdrop, not the type, but I can tells they're not happy 'bout sum-tin, and, being civic minded, I want to help. So, I's listenin'. That's good of me, right?"

Ooh, no, it wasn't. "Um…" 

"And Cardsharp's saying that he doesn't like the 'job' they're on. Says he doesn't like Matilda. Who couldn't not like that vision? She has to be the prettiest, loveliest girl…woman…did I mention the brown hair? It shone, I swear. How many women's hair shine? Most are as coarse as the hair on my—"

"Billy."

"Spoilsport," Billy sneered. "So, necessarily, I don't take to Cardsharp. He don't look right to me, you know? Like, maybe, they're not on the up and up. Scary doesn't look like a good guy either, and Brick? Him I like the least. He's got these beady eyes and this moustache that, I swears, moved like a caty-piller cross his face. Made me think the woman was in trouble. Anyone with a black moustache that thick's up to no good, I promise you. So I was just 'bout to go talk to the Sheriff 'bout the moustache, when, lo and behold, the li'l bit herself walks in!" Billy swung his arms wide, his eyes puffing out. "She jes' came marchin' in, the kid asleep on her shoulder, Scruffy trailing behind, looking put out. She goes and dumps the kid on Cardsharp, who protested with something like "I just washed this coat!", but she just marches up to the bar to talk to me." 

"To you?"

"Well, to get a drink, telling everyone how much she deserved one. So…that counts. And I meant to _make_ it count, know what I mean?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Ugh, Billy." Hank grabbed the whiskey, thinking he'd need a glass if he was going to listen to this.

" _Ugh, Billy_ ," Billy repeated, sneering the words. "Yer no fun. Remind me to get a funnier brother next time."

Hank knocked back a shot. "You telling a story, or what?" he demanded, pouring another.

Billy stuck his tongue out. "Fine. So, while she's chattin' me up, there's some argument goin' on in the background 'mong the men, but I don't listen, 'cause she's all over me. All suggestive looks n' stuff. I knows when a woman's into me. And she was into me. You know what I mean? Next thing you know, we spent the night together."

The whiskey Hank had been in the middle of drinking spewed across the bar. "What?" he demanded, wiping the liquor from his chin. "She what?"

Billy grinned, then sighed. "Well, okay," he said, popping his chin on his hand again. "Maybe not the way you think I meant, though I meant it what I wanted to say, you see?"

"God no. She slept with you?"

Billy's grin grew wider, then, abruptly, it fell. He lowered his head. "Damn it. I can't lie to you, little brother. Turned out she was a tease. I just talked to her for a while. She didn't put out. Her boy kept interrupting, whining for his momma, saying he wanted ta sleep. Pestering and interrupting and being a hell of a cockblocker, until she demanded Cardsharp take 'im away. Cardsharp did, though I thinks he was sort of put out by whatever the boy'd smeared on his coat. But he took the kid away too late; by then, she wasn't interested in me no more."

Hank took a fresh shot of whiskey, and shook his head, smiling slightly. Most likely, she hadn't been interested at all. 

"But," Billy continued, "evens with all that, she told me her whole story. Turned out, those men were with her for her proshecshun…proshectun.…to keep her safe. Assigned by some judge or other, some friend of her pa." He cleared his throat, looking ashamed again. "Turns out her pa had died, had willed her some claim to some gold mine in the hills, less than two days ride from Leadstown. And, well, you know that Leadstown's just over the hills. A day's ride from here. Super close. But, and this is the stupid part, 'parantly, she had to get to the clerk's office in Leadstown by this certain date, like, end of the week, or it went to cousin, her cousin _Steve_."

"Steve?" Hank repeated.

"Steeeeve," Billy said, nodded, dragging the name out. "And not just any Steve. Stevie B!"

"Steve DeBlois?"

"The very sames! And suddenly, I know who she is! She's ol' Henry Norman's daughter, Maddie! The one he sent east to that fancy boarding school? The one that married that guy, you know, the one with all the, you know the stuff and the things. The German feller. The one that died. 'Least I think he's dead. Pretty sure. I mean, if he wasn't, why'd she be here. So, yeah, he's dead." He threw back another shot, proud of himself.

Hank flashed a tiny smile at the terrible description. "Uh huh."

Billy burped loudly, and wiped the spittle from his chin. "So, anyways, she's here with these no-good-niks, trying to stay hidden, no one…letting no one knows they's here. Stay one night, then they're gone go on. To Leadstown. Well," Billy shook his head, patting the bar like he needed to emphasize what was coming, "that was just stupid telling me, now, wasn't it? I mean, if they was trying to stay hidden, telling Billy Rufus is not going to do it. You know as well as I do, I can't keep a secret. I'm awful at secrets! I means, really, I can't be blamed, can I? It was _Henry Norman's wee girl_. How exciting is that? Everyone remembers her when she was little, so cute, with the pigtails and the l'il hats and…the cute! And they all loved ol Henry…" He sighed, shaking his head. "And, oh my lord, I couldn't help it. And so, that's why what happened here's sorta my fault. But…I mean, was it really?" He peered up at Hank, eyes narrowed as if trying to see if his brother was understanding, maybe even forgiving.

Hank just took another drink. He hadn't forgiven his brother for tattling to their mother when he'd accidentally left the chicken coop open when he was six. All those chickens—one very quick coyote. His mother made him muck and scrub the stables alone for a month. 

Billy Rufus just sighed again, long and painful at his brother's obvious reticence. "Yer thinking about the chickens, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"But, see? That's my point! Haven't never kept anything secret. So…I told on 'em. And not just, say, a couple people. I told _everyone._ Started with some folks in the bar, then I had to get water and there were folks by the water, and then the guy by the privy, and the guys out front the livery, and then ladies in front of the merc across the way…." He twisted his lips, and took another drink. 

"And anyway, talk kinda cascaded. Whole town knew in less n' half n' hour. And now, this I couldn't have known. I couldn't a' known that Stevie would've had a hankering that Maddie might show up, or how far he'd go to stop her. Her daddy had made the provision about the mine, in case she didn't wants to come back here, and I guess ol' Henry didn't think she would. Not sure if he knew her husband had died or whatnot before he kicked the bucket, but, well, he figured, if she didn't wants to run it herself, it best go to her cousin, since he would wanta have it. Besides, Steve's dad had helped ol' Henry get that mine in the first place, so he had some rights. But, I guess she thought it her birthright or some such, and, well, Stevie B didn't take kindly to nots getting it, and so…he staimed to op…aimed to stop her if she tried. And, really, how was I supposed to know how far he'd go? I mean, he's Stevie B. All 'round good guy. He weren't supposed to get all like that."

"All like what?"

"Warlike."

"Warlike?"

"Soldiers and guns n' stuff. Like he was in the war."

"He _was_ in the war."

"Ten years ago!" 

"He still has his uniform."

"So?"

"So he wears it in the memorial day parade every year? Has friends who are still in the army?"

"Phhhht." 

"You're an idiot, Billy Rufus."

"Yeah." Billy's sneer fell, replaced by a something dark. "I know. But I ain't evil. And what Steve brought us here, that was evil."

Hank put his glass down, because, for all the drunken nonsense that had come out of his brother's mouth up 'til then, that was the first thing he said that sounded stone cold sober.


	2. Billy Rufus In the Middle

Billy's lips had thinned out, pale and pressed together, like he was remembering something that went beyond a good story. His skin, normally ruddy, had paled as well—the black circles under his eyes seeming to deepen. For the first time, Hank realized just how sickly and upset his brother looked. Perhaps he wasn't just drinking early in the morning. Maybe he'd been drinking all night and just hadn't stopped.

A little worried, he reached out and softly touched Billy's arm, patting it gently like their dad used to do when they'd been upset. "You alright there, Billy Rufus?" 

Billy sniffed sadly. "I don't wants this to be my fault. I don't. I keeps thinkin'…if I hadn't of told everyone they was here…"

"Billy….having a big mouth don't make you evil. It makes you stupid, but not evil."

Billy's lips twitched, and he glanced at Hank. "You mean that?"

"Yeah."

"Hank!" Billy exploded out of the chair and into Hank, wrapping his arms around him and hanging on so tightly, Hank thought his ribs would break. Weakly, he tried to tap Billy's back, making weak "hush now" noises, and "there there."

After a while, Billy finally let go, sighed, and sat back on his own stool. There was drool and spittle on the front of Hank's jacket, a noxious yellowish color, and Billy looked appropriately rueful.

"Sorry, sorry, Henry Beau," he said, reaching over the bar and grabbing a rag. He attempted to dab at Hank's jacket, smearing the substance. "Sorry."

"It happens," Hank said, grabbing the rag from Billy Rufus and pushing the other man away. "Not like you treed the town."

Billy nodded. "No."

Hank frowned. "Gotta say, though, I wouldn't've expected Stevie B to go so crazy as to wreck the town either." He dabbed at his own jacket, frowning that he seemed to only be able to smear the guck further.

"Well, it weren't _really_ him. Not just him, anyway. It were the men he hired to help him."

Hank frowned again, deeply this time. He looked up from his jacket. "Men he hired?"

"Yeah. Besides his ranch hands and some of his usual cowboys, he called on his old army buddies, just like you said. He'd friends who was in the army with him. And they came—several dozen of them in rag tag confederate uniforms and armed to the teeth with rifles and stuff. Led by this crazy guy on a big white horse—Stevie called him Captain…something. Tee-rell, maybe? Captain Crazy'd be a better name. Anyways, they comes into town 'round midnight after Maddie arrived, and lines up on the street, and this asshole starts blowing a bugle to wake everyone up. Some of the others go round, lighting all the lamps and even a fire or two, so's everyone can see what they're up to.

"I came down, as bleary eyed as anyone, to see them pushing Scruffy in front of them, hands bound behind his back, sporting a hell of a black eye. Cardsharp, who'd come back and was still playing in a corner of the saloon, was standing next to me and, s'funny this, but I swears he said, 'Oh hell, not again.'" 

Hank lifted his eyebrows. "He knew the Captain?"

"Nah. But I gets the impression he'd run into mens like these who couldn't leave the war behind before." Billy finished off his bottle and reached over the bar to get another one. Hank watched the slightly precarious maneuver carefully, ready to catch something, or his brother, should it fall. Billy was soon upright again, pulling the top out of the new bottle and offering it to his brother.

"Drink?"

"Why not," Hank said, proffering the shot glass he'd grabbed.

As Billy poured, he started talking again. "Well, this is where it gets really nuts. Stevie B gets off his horse and starts yelling to everyone listening. 'I've got the town surrounded!' he yells. 'No one leaves without my 'spress permission, you hear?' Well, hell, this don't go down to well, and the sheriff comes out, all bluster and says: 'Stevie B, whatcha talkin' bout? Can't surround the town. 'Gainst the law.' But Stevie just shakes his head and says, 'Not against the law, Sheriff. I'm protectin' whazz mine.' Well, the Sheriff says, 'Whatcha mean?' And Stevie says, 'I'm here to stop my cousin Maddie from takin' way my mine.' And Sheriff says, 'But ain't it Matilda's mine? As she's Henry Norman's wee daughter?' Stevie B shakes his head. 'No sir,' he says, 'it's mine. Was my daddy's before it was Henry's and I'm supposed to get it. She can't have it and I ain't letting her leaves this town to get it. Everyone else can leave, but not her, and not her four friends. Or her son.' Then he says, 'I don't aim to harm her, Sheriff. Not gonna harm anyone. Not unless she tries to leave. But if she don't, then no one gets hurt.' Sheriff says, 'Well, so longs as no one gets hurt, guess that's okay then.'"

Hank's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? Sheriff said it was _okay_?"

"Well, he kinda had a lot o' guns pointed at him at the time, so I guess he was just being dippy-you know-matical."

Hank snorted.

"So, everyone's 'bout to go back to bed when Maddie herself comes stormin' down, Scary right next to her. Cardsharp sighs next to me and goes outside, and I saws him unbuckling his holster as he went. I don't sees the Jerk anywhere. Figure he's somewhere with the kid.

"She starts screamin' how he has no right to do this. That he can't keep her from her birthright. He just yells back about how she can't swan into town after twenty years and think she deserves anything. After a while, it got sorta boring, so I went and got a drink, and served some others who looked thirsty. Then…" Billy slammed the table. "Boom!"

Hank jumped at the slam. "Boom?"

"Boom! Then more! Boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!"

"Things exploded?"

"No! Why'd you think that?"

"Cause you said, 'boom'!"

"Gun shots, ya ninny. Booms from guns!"

"Wouldn't…I don't know, maybe, 'bang'?"

Billy glared at him. "Who's telling this story, Henry Beau?"

"Point."

"So, gunshots everywhere. I get down behind the bar, and peek my head out of the side, trying to see what's happening. Suddenly, boom! Oh…wait, I see what you mean." Billy screwed up his face. "Okay, that time, it was the boom of the bar doors being thrown back. Maybe…um…crash? Crash-boom!" Billy grinned, thrusting his fists in the air like he'd won something.

Hank just nodded. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that Scruffy is suddenly hurtling through the doors, and in his arms is Maddie's kid! The skid 'cross the floor, banging into my bar, my customers scattering, and shots following them, bang, bang, bang! Ruinin' my bar! The mirror! My gorgeous mirror!" He gestures towards the shattered glass behind the bar. "Gone! And holes, and sawdust, and…and dust and holes! I tries to yell at them to get out, but Scruffy's ignoring me. Then I see the kid's bleedin', and bleedin' bad, all over my floor! He was wailing in pain, crying the way only li'l kids can, and then Cardsharp is stumbling inside, firing away, getting behind the edge of the door so he's can keep shooting outside. Maddie barrels in next, with Scary covering her, and Cardsharp's covering them both n' and nuts…it's just nuts! It's so loud and I don't know what's happening! It's all crazy!" He swung his arms out, and one of the empty bottles on the bar went flying, shattering against the floor and causing them both to jump. 

Billy stared at it a moment, and then giggled like a loon. Grabbing the still alive bottle, he sloshed the remaining amber liquid down his throat, wiped his arm on his sleeve and threw it on the ground next to the other, shattering it as well. That done, he looked back at Hank, eyes wide and hands up and spread, like he's trying to calm _Hank_ down.

"Then, just as fast, it all stops." Billy exhaled, as if feeling that relief all over again. "Afters, I hears yelling, but it takes a while for my ears to start workin' again, you know? Plus, I'm covered in shattered glass and sawdust and it's hard. I mean, look around—half of what you sees 'round you in damage is from that night." Hank frowned and started to look around, but Billy grabbed his arm. "But I starts to make sense of the yelling pretty soon, since Maddie has shushed her boy, gripping him in her arms. I gets then that it's Stevie B who yellin' from outside, and all three of her protectors—'cept the Jerk—are lined up next to the doors and windows, just listening. Stevie sayin', 'this is just a taste,' he sez. He sez, 'you tries to leave this town, Maddie Norman, you ain't gonna make it. Captain Crazy n' his men'll kill ya. But,' he sez, 'iffin you stays here withouts leaving 'til Friday, then we is gonna go, and you're free to go. I don't want kill ya, but I will if you try to leave. My men'll be outside town, watchin'."

"Think I saw their campsites," Hank said, nodding sloppily, and realized he was getting a little bleary eyed from what he'd had to drink.

"Yeah, but…but see?" Billy said, letting Hank's arm go. "That's all it was. Stevie didn't wanta kill her or her boy. But…" And he sniffed, wiping his nose on a sleeve. "It was too late already." He sniffed again, and tears ran down his face. "Still can't believe it happened."

"The blood…the boy?"

"They bundled him upstairs to one o' my rooms, still crying. Maddie was besides herself. The doctor was called fer, and he was up there so long. No one knew what to think. And, oh man…Scruffy. Maddie was so angry at him, and, normally I don't feels sorry for anyones, but I felt sorry for him."

"Why?"

"'Cause she laid into him. Into all of 'em, but mostly him, 'bout how if her kid dies, it's their fault. And then he, Scary and the Jerk…who showed up after all the shootin' was done, no idea if he even helped, probably not, such a jerk, all sat at that table." He pointed to the table in the corner. "Mopin'. I took 'em some beers, cause, even though they didn't order him, thought they needed them. Plus, I was sorta hoping one of 'em might apologize and pay for the bar damages, you know? They didn't. Scary just glared, Scruffy didn't look up, and the Jerk's moustache was moving, so I didn't look at him too long." 

Hank snorted. 

"Anyways, Scruffy was sayin' how it was his fault. The kid got hurt 'cause o' him. Scary tells him, 'not yer fault.' Then Jerk sez it was his fault, 'cause he was supposed to be watchin' the kid, but the kid slipped out. I note that Scary didn't tell him it wasn't _his_ fault. Bettin' it was." 

"Why? What exactly happened?"

"Well, near as could gleans from the talk later on, the kid snuck through the soldiery types to get to Scruffy, whiles Stevie B, Captain Crazy, Maddie and Scary were all arguin'. Guess he was tryin' to rescue Scruffy, who was all tied up and beaten n' stuff. Guess Captain Crazy was saying Scruffy'd be a hostage, and the l'il kid didn't like that. So he sneaks up, cuts Scruffy's bonds, 'cept one of the soldiers saw 'im and that's when all the shooting started. Least, that's what I was told."

"Wow. Brave kid."

"Yeah. Still a cock-blocker though."

Hank huffed a laugh, shaking his head and reaching over the bar to grab a new bottle. He knew he'd need more to survive this story. Billy didn't say a word, just let his brother pour him a new shot and downed it.

"Anyways," Billy continued, "Back to that night. So, Scruffy, Scary n' the Jerk jest started drinkin' after all their blame-talkin', and then the Doc comes down and tells 'em he'll be back in the morning to check on the kid and the other feller."

"Other feller?"

"Oh, yeah. Forgot 'bout that. Cardsharp got winged. He was fine though—came down later to get a drink, his arm in a sling, complaining a bit 'bout Scary owin' him a new jacket. Again, 'parently. Looked peaked, but not dead. Scary ignored his whingin' and went upstairs to watch over Maddie n' her boy. In the end, they all booked rooms. From that night, 'til they left, they stayed here. I think Scary actually gave me a little extra when all was said n' done, though I haven't really looked. I think they knew I was the one that ratted 'em out to Stevie in the first place." Billy shrugged, sighing heavily and looking at his ruined bar again. 

"So, what happened then? Was the kid alright?"

Billy's face crumpled even more, if it was possible, and he took another drink before answering.

"No. No, he weren't. Next morning, we hears from the Doc that the boy was failing. Then he tells us all again that afternoon, that it's worse. By evenin'…Scary came down and told us the boy was on his deathbed. By dawn…by Wednesday dawn…boy was dead." He sniffed, and a fat tear ran down his face. "Scruffy went to get the coffin. Doc must've already told Benny to make the coffin so's it was ready, and they both came back with it, Benny all in black with those weeper things his people wear. Ah, Hank, you shoulda seen it. It was so small, broke my heart. I mean, I didn't like the kid, but…he was still jes a kid, you know?" Sniffing, Billy started to blubber a little. "I sees 'em bring the little kid down in the coffin, Maddie in tears, Scruffy lookin' like hell, even Scary's got this look on his face that…hell, just made him even scarier. Like he'd raze the town if someone jes gave him a match." He shuddered, and wiped his tears on his filthy sleeve. "Anyways, I gets asked to help take the boy out of town, 'cause I gots my wagon."

"Out of town?"

"Maddie wanted her boy buried with her father." Billy sniffed, then sneezed, sending spittle all over Hank's jacket, adding to the yellow gunk, but Billy didn't notice this time, being too busy wiping his tears on his dirty sleeves. "Did I tell ya, he looked so small in that coffin! All pale and sad. I felt so bad for Maddie. She was hiding her face behinds a veil, but I could tell she was in real pain." 

"Sorry," Hank said, scraping his sleeve against the underside of the bar to get the worst off. "Sounds awful."

"Terrible awful. Terrible, terrible. And it didn’t end there."

Billy wiped his face on a cloth hanging over one of the beer handles and put it back. Sniffing he looked down at his empty glass. 

"See, alls of us go out to the edge of town, Maddie, me, Benny and Scruffy on my wagon, and Scary n' the Jerk on horses. Cardsharp stayed behind to, his words—man liked big words—'recuperate in quiet contemplation.' Heh." Billy smiled wanly then. "Funny what's you remembers clearly, you know? Man had a mouth on 'im, yessir."

"Can imagine. So, what'd Steve do? He let ya through that army of his?"

"I think he might've, when he saw the coffin, but Captain Crazy went…well, crazy. He's suddenly there, yellin, 'don't! It's a trick! They's foolin' with us!" and then Maddie's all 'you bastard! You killed my son!' and Stevie's all 'stop yellin'! and Scary gets in between 'em all and sez nothing, but he's the kinda fella that says a lot with a stare, you know? And all the soldiers, there suddenly all right there too, surrounding us…I was afeared for my life, honest. Don't know how many there were, but felt like hundreds. Never seen so many men in one place!"

"Ground's pretty torn up on the edge o' town."

"Not surprised. Gonna be scarred for a while, I reckon." He sneezed again, and this time used the cloth to wipe his nose before putting it back. Hank shuddered slightly, wondering just how clean his glass really was as Billy continued.

"Anyways, while Scary is starin' the Captain down, Stevie goes and looks at the coffin. Captain demands it be opened, and though Stevie don't look like he likes the idea, Scruffy opens it to show the boy. He's there, all gray and dead and Maddie starts cryin' again. Then, crazyman again! Captain brings out a knife like he's gonna stab the kid! Maddie screams, Benny's shocked, Scary's grabbing his arm and everyone's about to jump in when Stevie yells at 'em all to stop. Captain argues - sez he don't believe the boy's dead, wants to stab 'im to be sure. Thinks it's a trick still. Maddie's spitting like a rattler now, screaming and caterwauling, but Stevie gets between 'em and sez 'no one's stabbin' my kin!' He shoves the Captain back."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Captain Crazy didn't like it much, but he weren't the boss, so he backs off. Then Stevie sez to Maddie. 'A couple o' yer men can takes the boy to Leadstown to bury him, but you's gotta stay.' Maddie wails, but Scary talks to her—I mean, there's tons o' guns on 'em by now, on all of us. Not kidding, I soiled my pants at least twice during all that. Scary ain't stupid and I hears him telling her not to be—and finally she agrees. So, the wagon goes on, with Benny and Scruffy driving it, and the rest of us left behind, on this side of Crazyman's army."

"Wait, Scruffy left? One of her protectors? He left with the boy's body?"

"Scruffy seemed to need to go, I think. 'Cause of that whole blamin' himself for the kid's death thing."

"Oh, right. Yeah, makes sense. Poor feller."

"Poor me! I was terrified something awful during all that. And then, walking with my pants in that state…"

"Walking?"

"They took my wagon, 'member? So Scary, me, Maddie and the Jerk all had ta go back into town on foot. Uncomfortable walk that was, and not just 'cause o' my pants. Maddie's still cryin', n' I'm still shakin', and Scary's looking like he wants to be onna pale horse ridin' through those soldiers. But, after a while, when we're back in town, I notice the Jerk's got a tiny smile on his face. I knew then that sometin' was abrewin'. I just didn’t know what."


	3. Billy Rufus Sees His End

Hank managed to reset the door on its hinges, shutting out most of the wind and snow, and was looking for something to fix the holes in the shutters when Billy emerged from the back room. His brother sighed happily, pulling the rope tight around his waist to secure his pants. He grinned at Hank and tapped his beer belly.

"Feel better?" Hank asked, putting down a shard of wood from a broken chair.

"Million times, million times. Best pee I've ever had in my life, I kid you not. I was able to write my whole name in the snow, middle name n' all! Sobered me up some, too." He clapped his hands together. "I'm already for round two!"

Hank sighed. "Perhaps, instead of drinking, you might think about helpin' me to close off some of these drafts. It's mighty cold in here."

"Oh! I can help with that. Hang on." He disappeared again, and Hank sighed, looking up at the windows again. He really needed a hammer and some nails, maybe he could borrow some off of…

"Here we go! Wrap yerself up in this."

Hank turned around to see Billy holding up two near white capes, both looking like they were lined with deer hide. When he made no move to take on, Billy stomped over and tossed one at him. 

"They're warm as anythin'. Just wrap it 'round ya, and the cold'll be nuthin'." He wrapped his around his shoulders, and it went clear down to the floor. "Been usin' em on my bed at night, fer blankets. Real nice. Snug as a bug, I tells ya."

Hank was still staring at his, unsure what to make of it. On one side, it was basically just a thick white sheet, with deer hides sewn, rather poorly, on the other. Still…. With a shrug, he put it over his shoulders and followed Billy back to the bar. Fairly quickly, he started to feel warmer.

"Where'd you get these?" They definitely were not normal Billy Rufus's style. Also, they were clean. He couldn’t have had them long.

"Left behind. Must've been part of their plan, but they never got to use 'em." Billy was pouring fresh glasses. Hank hesitated before taking his, resolving to just sip. After all, he still had to get the provisions, and then drive the cart the two hours home before it got too dark. Adeliza would kill him if he came home drunk again.

Then what Billy said sank in. "Plan?" he said. "What do you mean, these blankets were part of their plan? Whose plan?"

"Before I went to pee," Billy said, sitting down on his chair at the bar and guzzling his shot in one go. "Remember? I saids they'd had a plan? Jerkface's moustache was wiggling all over the place, didn't I say?" 

Hank nodded. "I guess. But with her son dead, I'd've thought Maddie—"

"So did we all," Billy agreed somberly. "So. Did. We. All. Well, mostly me. But turns out it did the opposite. She wanted to go more than ever." He poured himself another drink, but didn't start drinking immediately. He picked the glass up and peered at it, as if trying to see through it. 

"Ever notice," he said then, "how hard it is to see anything red through a glass of whiskey?"

Hank frowned, but dutifully lifted his own drink, and tried to see through it. Sure enough, the reddish flag hanging off the bar's smashed mirror blended neatly, so you could only see its outline.

"Yeah," he acknowledged, putting his glass back down. "So?"

"So, before the Captain's army churned all the snow outside into gray mush, there was a pretty thick coat of it on the ground, having been snowing most of this week. It was snowing when we came back into town, even. Just light, but definitely snowing."

Hank blinked. "So? It's winter. It always snows up here. Hell, even snows in the summer sometimes. What's that gotta do with anything?"

Billy just snorted. "Okay, okay. I'll back up." He drank from his glass. "See, whats I didn't know when we went out with the coffin, was that Cardsharp wasn't just recuperating. He went to Isabel and bought yards of white cloth, that cloth yer wearin'. Told her, his coat'd been ruined in the fight, and wanted to make a new one. She said, 'course, that she could do it for him, but he said he wanted something thicker fer the snow, 'cause of the cold. And then he went to Will Adelin and got the pelts, for the linin'. And what yer wearing, that's what he made."

"But I thought you said, he'd wanted to make a jacket." Hank shifted his up a little higher. "This is more like a cape."

"Yeah. And he bought enough yards o' white for four people's capes."

"I don't—"

"Neither did anyone else. No one even batted an eye. Funny, eh?" He grinned and finished his second shot. "Man had a silver tongue, that one."

Hank grimaced. "I'm still not following. What were these for?"

"Right. So, here's the thing. After we came back from seeing Scruffy n' Benny take them kid to be buried, Maddie, the Jerk and Scary, they went upstairs. Place was quiet as a tomb. After what happened with the kid, no one even came inside. Not at first anyway. A few came and paid their respects, but most everyone else stayed away that day. Kinda pissed me off, actually. I mean, this is my business, you know? But the place was empty -- I didn't see anyone but Cardsharp downstairs most o' the day, and he was just readin' in the corner."

"Not even that sickly boy, Eustace? I thought he practically lived here?"

"Nope." Billy shrugged. "I spent most of that day just cleaning up the mess from the fight with Robbie. Or, at least, pushing the worst of it off to the side." He looked around the saloon, as if remembering the state it was in now. "Fat lotta good that did, eh?"

"Get back to the capes."

"Right. So…" Billy was starting to slur again, as he poured himself another whiskey. "It was all quiet, then, suddenly, soon as the sun went down, that all changed. It started with Maddie coming down with Scary, n' the two of them going to the hotel for dinner. It was like a dam breakin', her leaving my place. Jerkface came down soon after, stopped and asked me where the ladies were, if you get my meanin', and I pointed him down to Martita's. He left. Finally, Cardsharp stopped reading, since the sunlight was gone, and demanded to know where all the card players were hiding. I tolds him that they's usually here, but with the death n' all….He said he thought that was rep..reppy…that it was not a problem n' left. A little whiles later, he was back, and I swears, he had the _whole_ damn town council with him. Even the sheriff and the mayor! He played with them all night, and, 'cause they were here, more came, to watch, to bet, you know what I mean. And, meanwhiles, the Jerk came back with some girls from Martita's—went upstairs with some of 'em, others hung out down here—and then, I swears, he came down with different girls! They jes' kept comin' and going. I was thinkin', damn – thazz was one hell of a Ladies' Man. Never known anyone with that kinda stamina."

Hank was frowning now. "Didn't the noise bother Maddie? I mean, she was in mourning."

"Not that I could tell. Not at the time, anyway. I didn't even see 'em come back from dinner. I only know she n' Scary did return 'cause, at one point, she came down n' asked for a pitcher of water. She was still wearing her black get-up with the veil, so I couldn't see her face, but she didn't sound anything but tired and kinda sad. I didn't ask why she needed a whole pitcher, I mean, with all the snow, it was easy enough to melt as much as she wanted, but I did think it strange. Still, by then, the place was so full of people that I had Robbie take it to her so I could keep watchin' the front. The Cardsharp's game was a real draw, did I say that? Man was like a king over there—never seen so many people interested in a game of cards. Then Martita came by, and I just pointed her upstairs to Jerk's room. She nodded and went up. I never seen her leave her place, but, honestly, it was like the whole brothel was here by then."

Hank just huffed a laugh, trying to imagine it. Billy was shaking his head, as if he couldn't believe it himself.

"It didn't quiet down 'til dawn broke, which is when the game finally broke up. Cardsharp bid everyone good night, and, funny thing, they all seemed happy. Weird, considering. I'd 'spected him to clean 'em all out, but sounded like most left with something in their pocket."

"So, not so sharp, then?"

"Sharper than I thought that night, turned out. Wicked sharp. Just not sharp enough to factor in the crazy."

"Huh?"

"Stay with me, Henry Beau. So, all next day, when it was snowing heavily, again, while the sun was up, I don't sees no ones, but by evening, it's happened again. There's tons of people here, and women just every which where. Cardsharp n' the Jerk are so loud n' bright that I didn't even notice that, other than Maddie comin' down with a lunch n' dinner order, I hadn't seen Scary since the night befores."

"You hadn't?"

"Nope. And, I realized later, that, 'cause of the veil…I hadn't actually seen Maddie either."

"But you jest said—"

"I saws a woman in a veil, talking softly. I never saw her face."

Hank's eyes started to widen. "You mean…?"

"It was Friday mornin' when it happened, two days after the boy'd died and the last day that Maddie could get her claim. Round four a.m., everyone leaves again, though a bit less happy—Cardsharp had cleaned up this time—and I sees him go tap the Jerk's shoulder. Says, 'time to go, just gonna gets the stuff.' I was thinkin', odd that. Time to go where? But he goes upstairs, and the Jerk's saying goodbye to Allison Pill—she's one a Martita's girls, real pretty—when Bang! The door is smashed open!" He pointed it. "That's why it's off its hinges and…hey…" He tilted his head. "Did you put it back up?"

"It was cold."

Billy smiled genuinely. "I'd thought it was too warped. Sweet! Still fits!"

"'Course. But who smashed it down?"

"Oh, right? Where was I?"

"Bang!"

"Yes! Bang! Door's off its hinges and suddenly there's like fifty soldiers in my saloon. Allison's screaming, Robbie, who'd been cleaning in the back, tried to run but got caught and dragged into the front here, and I'm jest trying to unnerstand what's happening. The Jerk's got his hands up, and they're takin' his guns. Then I can hear shoutin' from upstairs. Next thing you see, Cardsharp's being shoved down the stairs, wearin' nothing but his britches. He's sporting bruises on his face and the bandage on his arm's all thick with blood, so much that it's dripping down, real messy like. Next thing I know, we's all being dragged outside--"

"In the dark?"

"Yep. But you'd a never known it. Whole town's lit cause there's at least two dozen o' Captain Crazy's soldiers holding torches and, I swears, I thought they was goin' burn the town down. Captain's shouting, and soldiers are goin' into all the houses, dragging people's outside. I realized, after a bit, that they was looking for Maddie."

"But…wasn't she with you?"

"That's the thing. She weren't. She weren't anywhere."

"How?"

Billy Rufus grinned, and the glass of whiskey he'd been ignoring in his hand got downed in one big shot. He wiped his hand cross his chin and said, "Capes."

Hank just blinked. "Whut?"

"The same night—that Wednesday night—after her boy'd been killed, whiles Cardsharp and the Jerk were providing all that distraction for the town, Maddie n' Scary? They left. No one saw 'em. Used my sheets, reckon to cover theirs clothes, then used the capes they made for warmth n' camo…camo-flageyness." He poured another drink while he was talking, his eyes lit with mirth now, and threw it back before continuing. "Nears as I could figure it out, they had to've climbed out the window, so neither me nor Robbie'd see 'em, and then just got outta here. Must've kept low n' with all the snow on the ground—no one saw 'em. And I reckon they had to've crossed through the river on foot, since the soldiers were all..bridges, and they just slipped on through, like a knife through utter…butter. Knife through butter. Hot butter. Partially melted. Like on a hot day."

"Damn?" Hank drank down his whiskey, his mind spinning a little. "Like butter."

"Hot butter." Billy nodded, and poured another drink, emptying the bottle. "Turned out, Martita was in on it, had agreed to let Allison n' Brenda, cause they were 'bout the same size n' shape as Maddie, to pretend to be her, so folks didn't know Maddie'd left. I also finds out later that the Jerk weren't sleeping with the others of Martita's girls. He had 'em sewing up there. Sewing these capes. Four of 'em, two of which they'd finished that firs' night fer Scary n' Maddie. And they's didn't say a thing, so no one knew. After all, whose better at keeping secrets than whores? And with two pro…with two of her protectors still here, the whole rests of the town was fooled."

"Shoot," Hank said, nodding, his eyes wide. "Wow. Wearing white to hide in the snow--clever. Never would've thought."

"N' that's how I figured out why Cardsharp didn't play so hot first night. 'Cause he wanted 'em all back the second night. Sharp, like I said." He tapped his noggin, and then poured another drink. He didn't drink it, though. He just sort of looked at it, his face falling. "But, like I said, he didn't factor in the Crazy." 

Hank just frowned now, looking round the saloon and trying to imagine the chaos of that morning.

"Nears as I could guess," Billy said, still staring at his drink, "I thinks Cardsharp and the Jerk meant to leave right 'bout the time Captain Crazy comes stormin' in. To sneak outs the way the others had, in the early mornin' dark. But, somehow, Stevie and Crazy got wind that Maddie'd made it to Leadstown. Stevie, I guess, took off to try n' stop her before it was too late. Captain Crazy, though, he…I guess he decided that town needed to pay for helping."

"But you didn't—"

Billy gave him a dark look. "You ever try to argue with a Crazy? Reason don't count for nuthin'."

Hank frowned deeply, resting his head on the top of the bar, since it had started to feel very heavy. Billy joined him. Hank reached over and patted the side of Billy's head.

"So what happened?"

"Bad. Things. Bad things." Billy shut his eyes. "Didn't seem real at first." He sniffed. "Outside, it's still night, yeah? N' it's cold n' dark n' scary. They took Robbie n' me onto boardwalk, and tied us to hitchin' posts in front. Allison was tied to the post n' front of the Merc, and I saw Martita tied up with her later. I think they locked Sheriff and his deputies in the jail, 'cause I think they was shoutin' from in there. Cardsharp and the Jerk….oooh, that was the worst. Capn' Crazy'd made nooses, threw 'em over a couple of long branches on either sides of the big tree and then…and then had those two fellers stand on stools, but Crazy had one of the legs broken off o' each stool. So, nooses r' tight round their necks, they're both jes trying to keep their balance, n'…just not good."

Hank rubbed at his neck in sympathy. Billy opened his eyes, and lifted his head off the bar.

"So, Captain says, then, to everyones, 'fer aidin' n' abettin' Maddie and Cardsharp n' the Jerk, the soldiers are going to take everyones' valu-bulls.' Says, 'since Stevie won't be gettin' the mine, he won't be able to pay 'em all, so the town would pay for their services instead.' Called it…something. Retro…something. --Bution. That's it. Retribution. They planned to wreck the town, starting with my saloon." He looked around, frowning. "Which they did."

Hank reached over and grabbed his brother's clammy hand. "I'll help you rebuild."

Billy just shrugged. "S'okay. It weren't nothing since, after they did that, Crazy said, he was gonna kill those of use that'd helped—includin' me."

Hank sat straight up then. "What?"

Billy ignored him, turning the now empty bottle 'round in a circle on the bar. "So, after that, soldiers just start ransackin'. They're goin' house to house, getting jewels, money, gold…stuffin' it into sacks and dumpin' them in the middle of the street in front a' Cardsharp n' the Jerk. You know what I figger? I don't think, I think they weren't really soldiers, no, but jes' thugs n' bandits that the Captain must've picked up somewheres. And, in the meantimes, there I was, sitting 'gainst that post, thinkin' this was my end o' days, you know? I was gonna meet my maker. God was gonna be judgin' little o' me soon, and what would I say?"

Hank couldn't stop staring. They were going to kill him? "Billy…"

"And I wasn't the only one worried. Robbie's praying. Allison's wailing, and Martita was shouting in Italian. Pretty language that, even when I was pretty sures she was cussin'. And over by the big tree, the Jerk and…Ezra! That was Cardsharp's name! Oh, man, how could I forget that? 'Bout n' hour after the soldiers're ransackin' n' lootin', the Jerk starts calling to the Cardsharp where they were both strung up: 'Ezra, don't fall asleep! Ezra, Stay awake! You gotta stay awake, Ezra! Keep yer eyes open, Ezra!" See, Ezra the Cardsharp, he wasn't doin' so hot, what with the cold n' no shirt or coat, n' the bleedin n' the beatin' he took. An hour after they'd been strung up, his head was down, barely with it, his stool wobblin' like it's gonna go any second. But if he lost it and his stool fell, he'd've been dead. So the Jerk's yellin' at him to stay awake, to hold on. Calling his name. I think it was keeping the Jerk focused too. Though, at the time, I just figured he was postponin' the inevitable. We was alls gonna die. I mean, who was gonna stop Crazy?"

Hank was wide awake now, gripping another empty bottle to his chest, as if it could protect him from the fact that someone almost killed his brother. Billy Rufus was an idiot, but he was a good idiot, and Hank loved him. Not that he'd ever tell 'im out loud, of course, but he did. 

"But…" Hank said, his voice breaking slightly. "Yer not dead."

And Billy smiled, quick and a little wanly. "No," he said, "No, I'm not. "

"How?"

"Honestly? I'm not really sure?" He said it like a question. "I think..." He paused. "I think it might've been…" He frowned. "It was the black man, he did it." He nodded. 

Hank tilted his head. "A black man? From where?" There weren't any living around here. 

"No idea, but he came." Billy's gaze narrowed. "He came with two others, and…and he kinda saved everyone."


	4. Billy Rufus Finishes With a Boom

"Sorry," Billy said, chugging down some water from a pitcher that Hank had fetched him from behind the bar, "where was I?"

"A black man came to save everyone."

"Right. Right. So, there I was, watchin' the sun rise over the tops of the buildings. Somehow, some…fuckin…way, Cardsharp's not dead, neither's Jerkface. They're still not hanging…hanged. Is mid-morning, at least, and Jerk's voice is almost gone, n' Cardsharp's near death…but they weren't dead. They hadta a' known what was coming." 

"What _was_ coming?"

Billy grinned, and knocked back another water. "Pay…patience, brother." He giggled. "That's what he said to me."

"Patience, brother?" Hank frowned. He was Billy's only brother.

Billy nodded. "There I was, thinking, last sunrise I'd ever see n' how pretty the mountains are n' how nice the building's look n' how much I like the people in this town and I don't wanna leave, when this voice in my ear, it whispers, 'patience, brother. Salvation's at hand.'" He nodded, grinning still. "Whackadoodle, right?"

"A preacher?"

"Or something like. I feel the ropes loosen on my wrists, and I realizes they been cut. When I turns around, this grizzled older feller with a jaw the size of my whole head, he's smilin' at me. He says, 'don't move. Not 'til it happens.' And I was confused, and I said so. I was keepin' my voice low 'cause there are soldiers all 'round, though they're pretty excited 'bout all the loot they're countin', but I says to Grizzly, 'whazzat mean? 'Til what happens?' And he just says, 'you'll know.'" Billy nodded. "Then I watched him do the same to Robbie, cut 'im loose and tell 'im to stay still. 'Cross the way, I notice someone's talkin' to Allison n' Martita, some kid with black, shaggy hair and the worst grown-in beard I ever seen. No one's paying 'em mind, cause Jerk's yelling again, getting attention of the soldiers not greedily baggin' their gold n' stuff." 

"The preacher and the kid, they're townsfolk?" 

"Grizzled n' Shaggy? Nah. Never seen 'em before. No clue who they was. But they was helpin' n' no one in town was sayin' boo. In fact, when I looked 'round again, I realized that pretty much the whole town disappeared. Not a soul was still on the street. Even Sheriff's gone quiet in the jail. I think, if Jerk hadn't been cussin' out Crazy, Cap'n might've noticed. But he didn't. Jerk was that good at talking, at being a real jerk. Something I clearly knew froms the beginning."

"Yeah, you did." Hank had his chin in hand now, eyes wide, trying to imagine it all.

"And then, funniest thing. This black man came in from the other end o' town, pulling a loaded cart and driving some sheep in front of him. He was a tall fella, and big, know what I mean? Weird thing was, he was driving sheep from Malcolm's farm. I knows they's Malcolm's, 'cause they gots his mark on 'em. Blue n' white. But this black guy? Never seen him before. But he just comes in, seemin' completely oblivious to what's happenin'. Now Him? Cap'n Crazy does see. Not too many black folk 'round here, you know. And this Crazy, he was confederate, no doubt." He downed some more water and wiped a sleeve across his mouth. "So black fella comes right in, sheep wandering everywhere, and stops in front'a Cardsharp, n' starts talkin' in that way ol' slaves, you know? All master this and master that, like he's confused and not sure what to do. Just doin' what he's told. I know I'm not the only one thinkin' that he's gotta have a screw loose. When he won't go way, Cap'n lifts his gun, like he's gonna shoot him in the head...." Billy leaned forward. "Grizzled got his hand on my arm, and I'm thinkin'…this is it. This is the thing. But it wasn't."

"It wasn't?"

"Nope. Black man's starting Cap'n down, hands loose, when suddenly, riding pell mell into town, comes Stevie B!"

"Stevie B? I thought you said he'd gone to Leadstown?"

"That's what Crazy told us. Turns out, Stevie'd turned 'round. Must've heard what the Cap'n was doing—don't think he knew. He just comes stormin' in on his horse, and even the Cap'n looks surprised. And I asked Grizzled, 'is this the thing? The thing you was waitin' for?' And Grizzled just says, 'nope. This bit's unexpected.'"

Hank gave a laugh as Billy swallowed down his bread. 

"So, me, Grizzled n' Robbie just watch as Stevie B gets off his horse, right n' front o the black man, and so, between him n' the tree, and he says, 'what the hell, Captain! What are you doing? Maddie ain't here! What are _you_ doin? Cut these men down!' And Cap'n, he says, 'Did you lose the mine?' And Stevie says, 'yeah. But I never said to tree the town. Or kill people! I didn't want killing! What are you doin?' Crazy, he answers, 'I'm paying my men. You lost the mine and I gotta pay my men. This town helped you lose your mine. So they pay.' Stevie's just shakin' his head now, like he's not understanding. 'I'll pay you, Cap'n. Don't do this,' he says. But the Cap says, 'with what?' And Stevie says, "uhhh…" like an idiot, so Cap'n says, 'Question answered. Get outta the way, Stevie, or I's gonna shoot you." 

"Damn," Hank muttered.

"I know! And, for a second, I think Stevie's gonna stand his ground, but then he backs off, like he doesn't want to die, which, frankly, I don't disagree with as a notion. I wasn't lookin' forward to it myself." He took another drink of water. "He apologies to the black man, then to Cardsharp n' the Jerk, though he said somethin' to 'em about bringin' it on themselves, then he goes to the sidewalk, all slumpy shouldered. Cap'n Crazy, he's noddin', like this wasn't unexpected, and then looks at the black man again. He says, 'What about you? You gonna get out a here?' And you know what the black man said?" He paused, staring at Hank.

Hank blinked. Then, realizing Billy Rufus was waiting for him to guess, punched him in the arm. "Just tell me, nuts for brains!"

"He says, 'No. I'm not moving. I'm not lettin' you kill anyone else. So, here's fair warning. If you don't leave now, I's gonna kill you n' all your men. Yer not leavin' with their gold, neither.'" Billy rubbed his punched arm as he leaned forward. "Big damn hero, that's what that man ended up to be." Hank just huffed as Billy nodded. "And so, Crazy lifts his gun again. Points it at the hero's head, and…." Billy slammed his hands down on the bar. "BOOM!"

Hank jumped. "He fired?"

"No! The other kind of boom!"

"You mean…?"

"Right n' front of the Godwin's! The black man's cart—which turned out to be my cart--full of something like powder, exploded like a frikkin' Fourth of July firework display! There were seeds raining down, 'cause they'd put a bunch of Godwin's seed bags on top. The 'splosion sends Cap'n reeling backwards, n' not just him. All the soldiers staggered, some fallin' over their bags o' loot, all except the hero. He had to know it was coming, 'cause, soon as it happened? He spins around and, thwap! Thwap! Two knives outta the neck of his jacket, he throw's 'em at the tree, cutting both nooses. Hell of a thing! Never seen anyone that accurate, ever! Cardsharp just falls on the ground on his side, the Jerk's landed on his feet, but he's wobblin', and the hero? He just whips around as the Cap'n's got his gun up again, and throws another. Slams right into Crazy's chest!" Billy slapped his chest, and it thudded hollowly. "Crazy staggers back, and Hero's saying somethin' like, 'warned ya,' and then he's running 'cause now the rest of the soldiers, they realize he's really dangerous, and they're on their feet, guns out and firin'. Like some sorta magic, Hero runs and dives, aiming for Cardsharp—who's trying to stand up now, but failing 'cause his hands are tied and he's obviously weak as anything—but Hero just pulls him up to his feet in one move, like he weights nothin', throws him over his shoulder, bullets hitting all round them. He runs like a rabbit into the Merc with the Cardsharp, all in less than a second, I swears. I mean, he had to have been blessed by God, the way he did it all so fast! As for the Jerk, he'd stumbled behind the big tree, trying to avoid getting shot, and that's when I see the others."

"Others?"

"Outta nowhere, like archangels, coming to rain down fire. Scary n' Scruffy come out o' the smoke from the 'splosion, firing, nothing hittin' em, like their protected or something. Jerk disappears into the smoke behind 'em to lord knows where. Then I realize Shaggy and Grizzled are shooting too, getting the soldiers from the sides, and the Sheriff n' the deputies too, backin' 'em up. And Stevie B's ranch hands are there, and even Stevie, standing in an alleyway, shooting at the badgers. They were completely surrounded, and with Hero killin' their boss, they're lost. Suddenly, Grizzled looks at me and yells, 'What're you still doing there! Move! Get outta here!' I'd been so amazed, I'd just been standing there. I turned and ran into my saloon faster than I've ever moved before. I ducked behind my bar with Robbie, both of us covering our ears and Robbie's shouting something and I'm just not caring and, lord above, the firing just goes on and on n' on!" He shook his head. "I closed my eyes at some point. When I opened 'em again…it was to find Robbie gone. It was just me there. Not sure where he went. But it didn't matter, 'cause the shootin' had stopped."

Hank knocked back some water, and tried not to wish it was whiskey. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he asked, "And?" 

"And it was over." Billy looked at the bar, at the glass of water on it that Hank had poured him. "Just like that." 

"Just like that?"

He nodded. "I went outside. There were 'least a half dozen o' them fake soldiers on the ground. Dead as doornails. Cap'n Crazy's right where Hero'd left him, though the knife's gone. For a moment, I thought he'd been a real angel, sent to save us, but then I saw Grizzled and Father John walking 'mongst the dead, and Grizzled's carrying the hero's knife. Guess he pulled it for his friend. As I found out later, most of the soldiers ran—even though there were way more of 'em than good guys. Without Crazy eggin' 'em on, I guess they just took off. Sheriff locked some of 'em up too, though, ones that just surrendered or were wounded. Later, I hear Stevie went door to door, trying to 'pologize, but no one's listenin'. He leaves then too, takin' his ranch hands with 'im." He gave a wry look. "Didn't knock on my door, though. Man totally owes me 'pology."

Hank couldn't disagree. "And the men who helped save the town? Scruffy, Scary, and the others?"

"I didn't see 'em for a while. Not 'til later. Sometime in the evenin'." He shrugged. "After all it happen, I ended up just staying inside after that, started drinkin'." He looked at his bar, then around at the saloon. "Been two days, and I'm still here."

"But they came by?"

"Just Scary, really. He came in, looming over me, and I just watched as he put some money in the till." Billy indicated it, but didn't go near it. "Not sure how much—haven't checked. To pay for the rooms, and the 'extra' he said. Like I told ya before. But he didn't say sorry. I kinda wanted him to say sorry." He shrugged, morose now. 

"Well, _I'm_ sorry, Billy Rufus."

Billy smiled at that, and shrugged again. "Then next mornin', I heard them in the street, easy enough with most of my windows gone, so I went to the window and looked out. They were all there. Cardsharp was dressed—not sure when he came in to get his stuff, must've missed it. I did kinda drink a lot that night. But he was dressed, arm in a sling, kerchief round his neck, leaning heavily on the Hero. Speaking o' the hero, gotta say, he looked a lot less heroic in the morning light—just like anyone else—but I saw the knives strapped on his back this time, without his coat. Damn, if they weren't impressive still. Grizzled and Shaggy had found another cart, and Hero was helping Cardsharp up into it. The Jerk was all smiles, shakin' everyones hands, like they were all friends. Kissed Martita, Allison _and_ Brenda. Nuts—not sure how they even found his mouth behind all the lip hair he was sportin'. Scary shook Sheriff's hand, and Scruffy did too. Bunch of townsfolk had come out to see 'em off, most thankin' them. Even told 'em to come back this way on the way backs from Leadstown. I couldn't understand it." 

"Why not?"

"Well, I mean, Scary and them others…they made a mess, dontcha think? If they hadn't come, Crazy wouldn't a come."

Hank said nothing. Same argument could be used to put his brother at fault – if he hadn't ratted them out, Crazy wouldn't a come. Or if Stevie hadn't hired Crazy in the first place. Of if Maddie simply hadn't come back. Shaking his head at his thoughts, he ended up just patting his brother on the arm.

"There's lots of ifs, Billy Rufus. Can't control ifs. You said it yourself—can't predict crazy."

Billy sighed. "Yeah. S'true. Guess it was really his mess, weren't it? At the end of the day. The Cap'n's and Stevie's."

"Stevie's gonna need forgivin' too. Sounds like he did the right thing, in the end."

"Town won't forgive him that easy." He slumped. "Or me. Not sure I should even try fixin' this place up."

"Oh, don't be like that." Hank said. "Once the holes' are patched up, things'll get better."

Billy hunched against the bar. "How can you—?"

A sharp rapping on the door that Hank had wedged into place stopped him, and they turned to look at it. Hank just had enough time to think, "uh oh," when the hammering came again, and this time, the door fell open. More like crashed open, landing on the floor of the saloon with a loud bang and sending up puffs of dust, causing both brothers to jump.

"Well, that'll need fixing," a jovial voice said. "Hallo, the saloon! Anyone home?"

"Oh God help us," Billy muttered, standing unsteadily and turning to face whatever was coming in.

A tall man in a red shirt, broad grin, and a thick moustache stepped inside, dancing over the boards of the door and placing both hands on his hips.

"There you are! What's going on, Billy Rufus? How come you're not fixing this place up? Chris gave you enough from Maddie to rebuild it twice over!"

Billy frowned. "What?"

"And hello person I don't know!" the man continued cheerfully, walking over to the bar, hand outstretched. "You look like this curmudgeonly fellow here, except a wee bit younger and cleaner. You a brother?"

Hank blinked, and without really thinking, took his hand. "Um…yeah. Yeah. Hank LeClerc. Billy's brother."

"Buck Wilmington," the man replied, gripping Hank's hand so tightly, he could feel it bruising. "Nice to meet ya. But, whoo wee! This place is still a right mess. Rest of the town's looking like its getting back on its feet, but this place looks like hell."

"I wonder why," Billy snarled. 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Hank asked, ignoring his brother's black mood.

"Ah, Billy didn't mention us, eh?" Buck's bright smile faded somewhat. "Unfortunately, my friends and I are somewhat responsible for getting poor Billy in trouble here."

"Somewhat?" Billy repeated, snarling slightly and swaying a bit as he tapped a finger against the man's chest. "Was almost killed, you jerk!"

Hank cowered slightly—since this man was a head and a half taller than both of them, and could probably break them in two, but Buck simply nodded, as if this were not an unusual thing for him to hear. 

"Fair enough. I deserve that. But we aim to make up for it. Ezra still needs to rest, and seeing as Leadstowns mostly lean-tos and shanties, and it's freezing up there, we thought we might stay a couple days down here with you 'til Erra can ride a horse. That, and so we can see Maddie settled."

Billy perked up immediately, and took a drunken step towards the outside before falling back against his stool. "Maddie? She's here?"

"Sure is. She n' her boy are looking to buy a plot here in town, and set themselves up."

"Her boy?" Billy's eyes almost bugged out, his rump landed fully back on the stool as his legs apparently gave up.

"Oh, right, you don't know." Buck almost looked contrite. "That was a bit of a ruse to get the boy out safely. He was fine—that was all makeup and some pretty darn good acting on the kid's and his mama's part. I'd a thought your Doc or that Benny fella would have told you." 

"Yer saying…" Billy swallowed before speaking again. "Henry's alive? Cap'n was right? It really was a trick?"

"Yeah. We'd hoped it would get Maddie out of town too, but, as you know, that insane Reb Captain had DeBlois too spooked." He smiled then. "But it all worked out, and we got one more nutter and his gang off the streets. So you know, Maddie and her cousin have made up as well, and she's hoping the town will let her stay here, while DeBlois runs the mine for her in Leadstown. She really hated Leadstown—I don't think it was what she was expecting, but anyone who's ever seen a mining town knows they ain't pretty. Chris convinced 'em to make a deal, shared ownership with DeBlois running it, provided that Henry inherits when they both die. Since DeBlois got no kids, he agreed."

Billy snorted, but Hank smiled lightly. 

"That was right clever of…." Hank paused. "Sorry, who is Chris?"

"The scary one," Billy whispered sloppily in his ear. 

"Ah," Hank replied. Buck gave them another curious look before talking again. 

"Anyway, look, while we're here, we figured we could also give you a hand cleaning up. After all, we sort of owe you. Sort of an apology, of sorts."

"We also bought you another cart," a new voice said from the doorway, scratchy and with a southern drawl. "Since Vin blew yours up."

Hank had to smile—his brother had described this fella dead to rights. "Let me guess," he said, eyeing the smart coat and brocade waistcoat, and the arm in a sling, "you're the cardsharp, the one that got the whole town playing?"

The man in question tipped his hat. "Guilty. Ezra P. Standish at your service. Speaking of that wonderful game, if my companions get this place semi-respectable by this evening, perhaps we can do it again. You might like to join us, good sir. I hear there are a few folks interested in winning their money back. And, who knows, with this injury," he glanced at the black sling one of his arms rested in, "they might stand a decent chance of--"

"You are _irredeemable_ ," another man said, tall, black and enormous. He look a good head taller than the cardsharp, and without pausing, he grabbed "Ezra P. Standish" by his good arm and dragged him over to one of the few chairs. Pushing him into it, he ordered, "Now sit! Stay!"

"I am not a dog, Mr. Jackson!" Ezra croaked back.

"True, you'd be far less annoying if you were. I sent you in here to _rest_ out of the sun, and to rest your voice, not drum up card games and think of new ways to cheat the people of this town out of their money."

"I was merely—"

"Nothing with you is ever 'mere,' Ezra." He stripped off his coat as he spoke, and draped it around Ezra's shoulders with clear affection. "Now, behave and…" He trailed off, and turned to glare at the bar. "Stop grinning, Buck!"

Leaning next to Billy and Hank on the bar, Buck tried to quell a grin, but it came back.

"Aw, don't blame me, Nate! Yer awful cute when you're mother-henning."

"Oh, shut up. You're supposed to be resting your voice as well. Ezra may've been a bit more strangled than you, but your voice got more wear."

"I kinda like this husky thing I've got going on," Buck answered, rubbing at his throat, and Hank saw the red burn marks on it for the first time. "Ladies do too. Imagine if I sang with this voice? I'd bet the ladies would be—"

"One more word and I'm gagging you," Nathan snapped. 

"Oh, please do gag him," Ezra said pleadingly. "It'd be so nice."

Nathan just snarled. "You'll both be the death of me," he said. "Neither of you leave this saloon until I come back, and no drinking while I'm gone!" He pointed at them both, waited a moment while Ezra and Buck just smiled, and then heading back out the door, giving Hank a good view of the knives strapped to his back. 

"Whoa," he whispered. "So he's the one who—"

"Yep."

"I can see why you thought him larger than life. He's a real big fella, isn't he?"

"They're all big, 'ceptin' Cardsharp, Scruffy and Shaggy."

"Wait, what was that?" Buck asked, still grinning at them. "Were those nicknames? Who's Scruffy?"

From his chair, Ezra simply sighed and settled in, pulling a book from his sling and starting to read. "They're both rather drunk, Mr. Wilmington. I wouldn't put too much stock into their ability to clarify."

"Are you really?" Buck's grin widened. "So that's what I smell! Got anymore?"

"Work first," an older man with short white hair said, nodding at Hank and Billy. A blondish man in an Indian fringed jacket and a kid with shaggy black hair followed him in, all carrying tools from the hardware store.

"Ah, got it. Scruffy and Shaggy," Buck said, nodding at the two younger men. He looked at Billy then. "What do you call Josiah?" He gestured to the older man.

"Grizzled," Hank said, almost without thinking. Buck burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Scruffy asked, walking over. "Hey Billy Rufus." He gave a nod to Hank. "Vin Tanner."

"Hank LeClerc."

"Nice to meet you. Related?"

"Brother," Buck supplied. "Younger and married, so also cleaner."

Hank just huffed.

"That's JD," Vin said, jerking a thumb at the kid. "And the one with the tool box, that's Josiah. He's gotta lot of experience fixin' places up. We should have this place back together in no time."

"In time for this evening, you think?" Ezra asked hopefully.

"Might be a bit short on chairs and tables, but the windows, walls and doors, sure."

"As long as there is one table and about six chairs, that should do me fine."

"You're not gambling these people out of the recompense Maddie gave 'em, Ez," Nathan said, walking back into the saloon with a bunch of 2x4s over his shoulder. 

"Nathan, you wound me! I would never."

Josiah chuckled. "The forked tongue of the serpent, it—"

"Josiah," Ezra said with a growl, "one more parable out of you today, and I'm going to get Maddie to take back that German book of psalms she gave you. And you'll have nothing new to bore us with when we get home." That caused the others to laugh, and Hank couldn't help smiling as well. It felt like a shadow was being lifted off this place, and these men were the ones doing it. Josiah said something to Ezra, but it got lost as JD, Vin and Nathan started sawing the wood.

"Speaking of Maddie, " Buck said then, still leaning next to them at the bar, "she has a special gift for you, Billy," Buck said. "She's outside, with Chris, Henry and your new cart."

Billy's face lit up at the news, getting to his feet again, still a bit unsteadily. Hank frowned slightly, a little worried about how happy his brother looked at seeing this woman again. Standing, he followed his brother's uneven walk to the front, stopping when Billy did. Billy was looking at Josiah, who was standing by the open door, measuring the broken frame. 

"Hey," Billy said, his voice soft.

Josiah gave him a smile. "Billy Rufus. You alright?"

"I…yes…I just…I wanted to….Thanks." Billy actually blushed then, something Hank'd not seen since they were both little. "Not sure I said it before. You saved my life. Thank you."

Josiah just inclined his head. "Perhaps you can do the same for someone else, someday. Lots of folks need saving in this world."

Billy snorted. "Maybe I will."

Josiah smiled again and backed out of the way as Billy staggered out the opening into the light of day. Hank followed him, squinting a little. 

His brother groaned mightily as the sun pierced his sight, throwing up his hands as if warding it off could prevent it from being so bright outside. The snow on the ground didn't help.

"Hi Billy."

Hank's eyes adjusted first, he reckoned, so he was able to see the somewhat plain, but pretty woman standing at the edge of the boardwalk before his brother did. She had the lines of someone who'd seen some things—Hank guess maybe early 30's—but still had a blush in her cheeks. After a moment, he realized the blush was because she was uncomfortable, and, amazingly, a little shy. 

"Heh…Hello Maddie," Billy said, equally as shy. Hank had to fight not to roll his eyes. And he wasn't the only one.

Standing behind Maddie, leaning against a cart with his arms crossed, was a man that Hank easily admitted was one of the scariest looking people he'd ever seen. Wearing a heavy black coat, looking a little like he enjoyed eating children for breakfast, a blondish man glanced at both Billy and Hank before looking away.

Maddie, meanwhile, had shifted back a step so she could indicate the cart. "I bought you a cart. I think it's better than the one Vin blew up."

"Oh, um," Billy smiled. "Thanks."

"And, um…" She bit her lip.

Good God, Hank realized as she blushed prettily and looked down. She really _does_ like his brother. When did hell freeze over? 

"Um, I also bought you this." She nodded at the scary one, who must be "Chris," Hank realized. The man reached into the cart and tossed back a heavy cloth, revealing a long bar mirror. "I had them make it in Leadstown," Maddie continued. "Lots of blacksmiths there." She looked at Billy again. "I thought…to replace the one that shattered?"

Billy just blinked, then smiled goofily. "Yer real pretty in this light, Mizz Maddie."

Maddie smiled again, blushing even more deeply, and Hank heard Chris groan. Throwing the cloth back over the mirror, he growled, "I'm getting a drink." 

"Sure," Maddie said, paying him no attention as he swept past her and Billy and into the saloon. He hadn't even looked at Hank, though Hank had been staring right at him. Damn. 

"So…" Billy said then, "I heard that Henry—"

"Oh, yes, I'm so sorry for the ruse." She pointed down the boardwalk, where Martita and her girls were currently hugging and fawning over a young kid with a mop of blondish hair and sporting a sling like the Cardsharp's. "He's going to be alright." 

As if aware that he was being spoken of, the boy suddenly turned and sprinted towards them.

"Mom!" he yelled breathlessly, skidding to a stop in front of Maddie. "Where's Chris?"

"Inside," she replied. "But I—" Too late. Henry had already disappeared into the saloon, and Hank had to smile as laughter erupted from inside a moment after the boy's appearance. 

Oblivious to anything but Maddie, Billy asked, "Wanna take a walk?" 

Maddie gave a nod, then just as quickly shook her head as if realizing something. "Oh, I can't. I can't leave Henry with Chris for too long. I need to see him settled, but…lunch? At the hotel, in an hour?"

"Okay." Billy nodded, and Maddie smiled again and, with obvious reluctance, walked away—presumably to get a room at the hotel.

 _Unbelievable._ Hank fell against the saloon's walls in total shock. In his whole life, he'd never seen Billy act that way around a woman. Or vice versa. And never a _pretty_ woman.

Billy just turned around and grinned. "Told ya, Henry Beau."

"Billy Rufus," Hank replied, "I'm officially proud to be your brother."

And Billy grinned even wider. 

"But," Hank added, "you best sober up and wash up before you meet that lady at the hotel."

Billy's smile fell, and he looked down at his filthy clothes. "Bath! I need a bath!" And suddenly he was off and running, headed towards the bath house like his clothes were on fire, nearly running into a hitching post along the way as his balance faltered. Hank just stayed where he was, shaking his head.

For a while, he just stood there, drinking in the cool air and the sunlight, feeling the last of his alcoholic haze fade. He smiled as he listened to the sounds of laughter, sawing and hammering from inside the saloon. 

When the clock struck noon, he glanced over at the Godwin's and saw Edith on her stoop. She spotted him and waved him over. Giving her a nod, he strolled across the street to her now perfectly clear porch, the feed store's goods restacked and looking as if nothing had ever happened.

"Did he tell you the story?" she asked as he approached.

"He did. He thinks the whole town's mad at him."

"Weren't his fault," she admitted. "Weren't no one's, 'cept that old Captain friend of Stephen's. Never seen anything like him before. Was terrifying, it was. Hal tried to stop 'em when they raided our place, and nearly had his block knocked off. That's why he's hiding—don't want anyone seeing his face." She shrugged. Then she frowned and leaned forward, sniffing. "Oh, Hank! Don't tell me you been drinkin' with him? I was hoping you'd break him out o' that! Not joining him. What'd your wife say?"

Hank just shrugged. "I'm hoping to sober up before heading home."

She stared at him a moment, then looked over his shoulder at the saloon. Hank followed her gaze, and saw the Jerk…Buck…standing outside, helping Nathan to shatter the rest of glass from the partially broken plate glass window, probably to make it easier to remove. Turning back, he caught Edith flashing a rare smile. 

"Wait here," she ordered, and, like everyone else in this town, he did whatever Edith ordered. She disappeared inside her shop, and, a moment later, returned with a tray and a hot pie covered by a cloth. 

"Hal n' me'll load up your wagon. You take this over to those boys helping your brother, and tell 'em this is for them."

Hank frowned slightly as he took the tray. "But…" His frown deepened, thinking about what his brother had said. "You don't blame 'em for what happened?"

Her eyebrows lifted, giving him a look as if this was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. Then she gave a shrug.

"Maybe. When it first happened. Some. But listen. Even after they'd gotten Maddie out, after they'd done what they was hired to do, they came back. And before they did anything—before they helped their friends, whom anyone with eyes can see they care about like family, or fired one shot at those bandits—they made sure everyone in this town was safe. They came in our back door, got me, Hal n' the girls, and got us out o' town. Got everyone out of town. And they got your brother, Robbie, Martita n' her girls—made sure they were free, so they could run when it started. And then they saved the town itself, got us back all those things we worked so hard for, not takin' one thing for themselves." She nodded at the saloon. "Those men, Hank LeClerc, they're the real thing. They're the kind of men stories and legends are made of, and I, for one, think they deserve a little peach pie."

Hank couldn't help but smile at that, and he lifted the tray up. "Well, when you put it that way…"

"I'm never wrong, Hank. Don't you forget." She turned away as his smile grew, only to stop and throw him a look over her shoulder. "And you tell your brother, him and his new lady friend are welcome over for dinner. 6:00. They're not to be late. You tell 'em."

Hank grinned. "I will."

She gave him a nod, and, with a swish of her skirts, disappeared back into her shop.

Now that? _That_ was a queen. 

Laughing now, Hank headed back to the saloon. He wondered how pie tasted with whiskey?  
_______________________________________________ 

The End - hope you enjoyed!


End file.
